


Rare, Bright, Beautiful

by vesta02



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dreams, F/M, Flash Fiction, Romantic love, Stolen Kiss, The Winter Palace, Tragedy, Trespasser DLC, Wolves, kiss, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesta02/pseuds/vesta02
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and prompts featuring Solas and Ellana Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pearl-studded slippers

Pearl-studded slippers seemed rather…extravagant. Ellana wrinkled her nose as she stared at the box Josephine had do carefully left on her bed, the note held tightly in her fingers. They were all preparing for the ball at the Winter Palace and Ellana had hoped she would be wearing something sensible. The idea of walking into the viper’s den in a layered dress or constricting corset seemed rather daunting to her and far less appealing. Fighting, for one thing, would be near impossible.

Her sighing must have caught his attention, Solas looking up from his tome at her desk. “Something the matter?”

“I wonder if anyone would notice if I just didn’t wear shoes to Halamshiral,” She said with a laugh, waving the slippers in the air for her lover to see. “This just seems ridiculous and a little more than I need.”

Solas laughed, his brow coming together ever so slightly, bemused with the gift. “They are very decadent. An obvious statement to the wealth and connections of the Inquisition I can only assume.

"But impractical!” Ellana set them back into the box as gently as she could manage. “Perhaps I’ll wear a dress and wrap my feet instead. Think they’ll notice if I’m dancing barefoot?” She wiggled her eyebrows, drawing a low chuckle from across the room.

It was worth a shot, in any case, leaving her bed, welcomed into Solas’ arms instead.


	2. Prompt: Just Once

“Once,” She whispered, “just once, I wish…” But what could she wish now? That he had been honest with her from the start? That he’d told her all that he was, all that he had done? That he had stopped her from falling in love with him?

It hurts too much and she clenched her jaw, stifling the cry of pain that came from her malfunctioning mark. The sickly green glow spread up her arm, growing at an alarming rate the longer she’d spent in the crossroads. Everything hurt, though, and it was hard to differentiate the levels of pain that sank bone deep.

Her gaze met his and for a moment she saw it: raw emotion, grief, pain etched upon his features. It cut her to the core as Ellana gasped, her breathing ragged against the sob nestled in her chest.

This wasn’t how their story was supposed to end.

“Vhenan,” He breathed, one step and then two before he sank to his knees before her. His hand slid along her neck, up to cup her cheek, and she turned into his palm. Part of her wished she didn’t have this reaction, not when she knew everything now, but her heart? That knew no logic or reason, even when she wondered how she could be his heart when he wanted to destroy everything she knew and loved.

Including himself.


	3. Prompt: A hope we don't get caught kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Affectionate Moments prompt #15 - a hope we don't get caught kiss at the Winter Palace.

“Can I borrow you a moment?” It’s a simple request in a politically charged arena as all eyes have stayed glued to the Inquisitor and her entourage throughout the evening. The Winter Palace is everything Ellana dislikes about human politics, nose wrinkling in disgust over the Grand Game. It doesn’t seem worth it to pretend to truly enjoy herself tonight, not when she’s so far removed from herself. 

Laced into a gown that seems more for the benefit of the nobility, Ellana feels the fool as she stumbles through interactions, following direction given to her by Josephine as best she can. But all she can think about are the humans and their eyes sweeping over her  _ vallaslin _ , lips curving into sneers at this  _ Dalish savage _ all trussed up for the ball. Perhaps it’s all in her head; a manifestation of just how out of place she feels, but it doesn’t make tonight any easier to handle with grace and poise that’s expected of her.

Dorian loves it, Cassandra hates it and Solas? His eyes glint in the candlelight, watching silently from his position by the wall and Ellana’s certain she sees the barest hint of a half-smile as he sips at his glass of wine.

Creators, he looks  _ good _ . Better than good, she notes, eyes sweeping over the fitted lines of his outfit. She wants to express her own displeasure that he’s her  _ serving man _ but Solas seems to take no offense to the role he has to play. It means they’ve spent the night apart, separated by implied social class and what the nobility would obviously view as a complete lack of impropriety.

But Ellana finds herself bold for a moment, raising a brow as Solas takes in her request. “Lead the way, Inquisitor,” He murmurs, setting his glass down, hands behind his back. They walk close without touching, moving with gentle, unhurried purpose. It’s only when Ellana finds a corner, quiet and partially obscured by a heavy curtain that she turns swiftly. Her hands grasp his waist, tugging him back into the partially hidden corner with her.

“Inquisitor-” He begins but she leans up on tiptoe, silencing him with a hurried kiss. “Ellana,” He breathes after a moment, his hands on either side of her face, his gaze darting from her features to the opening of their barely concealed hiding spot. “Someone will see us.”

“Just let me have this moment,” Ellana insists softly, leaning into his touch, “just for a moment, let me be myself. Not the Herald or the Inquisitor or Duke Gaspard’s  _ special guest _ or anything else.” Her lips curve into a little smile as she adds, “Besides, you look so very handsome all dressed up.”

Solas lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “ _ Vhenan _ ,” He tries to sound chastising (she knows they shouldn’t be stealing away to dark corners here of all places) but he tilts her chin up, slanting his mouth eagerly across hers once again. It’s a stolen moment that doesn’t last nearly long enough. Ellana wants to sink into the kiss, to pretend that they are back at Skyhold instead of walking on eggshells in a bonafide viper’s nest.

A pair of women laugh just outside of their spot as Ellana pulls away. Solas’s arms wrap around her, pulling her deeper into the shadows as they wait for the ladies to pass. One look and Ellana knows she needs to go. “Stay safe?” She murmurs, caressing his cheek tenderly.

“I should be saying that you you,” Solas replies, leaning on for one final kiss, “I’ll leave first, wait a moment before you exit.” He pulls away from her, pausing before he leaves their alcove, “Happy hunting, Inquisitor.”


	4. Flash Fiction: Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for @malsweeklychallenge on Tumblr using 'Wolves'

In her dreams, she runs with wolves. She’s home again, under the familiar canopy of trees that she spent her youth under. There’s a longing in her heart that she can’t describe, a yearning that permeates everything she is and everything she does these days. The world did not end and yet the fight lingers on. There’s still so much work to do and Ellana feels so tired in the waking world.

Her heart’s broken into a million little pieces and she longs for something familiar, for a little piece of herself that she’s lost along the way.

She races across the forest floor, legs moving, arms pumping, her heart beating in her ears. Her hair flies loose and free, her cheeks flushed as she urges herself along to go faster, faster, faster.

How can she go home with the knowledge she has? How can she return, bare-faced and battle scarred? She doesn’t think she has it in her to do it, to tell her clan and her Keeper the truth of their legends and their tales. Why does she have to be the one to break their hearts in turn with what she knows?

Her lower lip trembles as she slows, breathing heavily, watching the wolves race ahead of her and into the darkness of the forest.

Sometimes she thinks she feels someone watching her, a figure along the tree line near where they used to camp. Among the shadows of aravels, Ellana squints into the dim lighting, so sure that she knows who watches her. Her lip curls into a snarl as she glares into the darkness, her fists balled at her side.

“Coward!” She yells into the trees, unable to stop herself. “You’re a bloody coward!” It’s despair that grips her heart, recalling it’s not only the burden of truth that hurts but the sting of being left.


End file.
